


Creamsicle

by StarryNighty



Category: Defending Jacob, The Iceman - Fandom
Genre: Angst and Smut, Assassins, F/M, Gratuitous Smut, Hitmen, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Murder, Murderess, Rape, Sexual Assault, Shameless Smut, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:33:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25032508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarryNighty/pseuds/StarryNighty
Summary: AU:  Defending Jacob/The Iceman Crossover; set in The Iceman.Pairing:  Robert Pronge x Black Reader x dark!Andy BarberSummary: Set in 1980s, you are a nurse with a peculiar side job.Warnings: 18+, smut, disturbing scenes, non-con, dubious consent. Proceed with caution.A/N: This is a long awaited request turned BIRTHDAY gift for my bff @titty-teetee! She also beta’d parts of it as well, hope your day is great. <3
Relationships: Andy Barber/Black Reader, Robert Pronge/Black Reader, Robert Pronge/Black Reader/Andy Barber
Comments: 10
Kudos: 29





	Creamsicle

**Somewhere in New Jersey 1984**

Alleyways appeared like musky, dank, dark traps. Tall buildings with narrow passages lurked for you to stop long enough to sink you into what awaited. It had been days, caffeine fueled hours upon hours of staying awake. To stay aware, to be on your feet at a moment's notice. It took skill, that you honed, and passion, that fed the murky abyss within. Murder was your obsession, and it had turned into a habit that paid well.

But now, you were seeing things. Had to be, tree limbs slapped the pale yellow street lamps sketching figures along the sidewalk. The shadows looked like knives, the bulk of the smooth casts appeared as long blades serrated or short ones, for quick delivery of the eventual end of a life. 

You rubbed hard on your eyes, squinted into the dark and held your duffel bag closer to your rushing beating heart. 

_Gotta get home, gotta make it out_ , your mind chanted.

You had handled worse, been through revolting things, so you paid your surroundings a never mind and kept walking. And that was a mistake. Half past midnight, on the seeder side of the city made for an interesting set of characters. Strangers drifted in and out of the black of the alleys as you passed along the street. Your mind was focused on other events, it was concentrating on the task you had just perfected.

You were elated, even with the burden of fatigue.

And with that dark joy still humming in your head, you were snatched off the street. A man yanked you in, he swung you by the arm into the nearest brick wall. The back of your head impacted the grimy stone causing your eyes to shake in their sockets. Filthy lips pressed against the side of your face as you rolled your head away. 

When you fought back he slammed you harder, more violent back into the wall. After that, your memory was choppy. Blackness filled your eyes and you were at the mercy of the streets.

You awoke to a man holding your face and pawing at your clothes. You fought him too. Being discovered, realized was the biggest fear you had. So you hit him with a tight fist, but nothing really landed. 

“Hey, calm the fuck down lady.” he griped and you took another swipe at his face. “Okay, alright have it your way then. But your fucking dress is up over your tits. Everybody plus Christ can see those chocolate drops.”

You shuddered when the wind swept over your body. The stink of the street, garbage and shit covered your senses. Bruised and hurt you haphazardly began to right the dress around your breasts while straining to get a bearing on your surroundings.

You hurt, deeply. A horrible cramp clashed up the sides of your thighs as you sat upon your knees. 

“Jesus, you look like hell.” said the man.

You didn’t look up at him. Your eyes crawled over the shitty paved alley floor for your bag. It wasn’t there. _Oh, shit._ Panic rushed through your veins and you attempted to stand only to fall back down.

“Fuck,” hissed the man. “Let me help you.”

You scowled at him, eyed him from head to toe but didn’t take in much about it at first. So you let him help, at least he was better than what was out there. He was surprisingly gentle despite the tone of his voice. He held you around the back while his other hand gripped your wrist, cocooning you in warmth. The day had arrived, but gray skies held back the sun. He walked you out of the alley, and even still you weren’t sure if he or this was real. But as your head lobbed to the side you stared at him. His warm hand held you closer as his eyes darted back and forth along the street. The scent of sweet cream, and sour on his beige jacket was faint but you still picked it up. 

You managed a faint, feeble whisper around swollen lips, “Thank you.” 

He gave you an aggravated nod and then directed you further. 

“Thank me when I can get your goddamn blood outta my uniform. What kid wants to buy ice from a man with blood on his sleeve?”

Your reddened eyes, blurry and shaking, turned back to see a large truck. It was plastered with images of ice cream that kids loved. He directed you to the back, he opened the hatch and suddenly you were hit by cool air falling from the interior.

“Get in, I know someone around the corner here that can help you.” he said and helped you lift yourself up into the inside. “No cops.” he added and joined you, slamming the door shut.

“Unless, that’s what you want?” he asked.

A small space, made even tinier by two, you hobbled to the counter furthest from the sliding window. You shook your head furiously. “No..no pigs.” You said hoarsely. 

“Good,” he said, with his middle finger he pushed his glasses back over the bridge of his nose. You leaned back against the cool surface of the truck and stared at the man. His face ducked in and out of focus as you slowly slid down to the floor. 

He grumbled something under his breath and stepped over to the serving window before returning to you. He straddled your legs and then squatted down as he rolled a damp cloth within the palm of his hand.

You watched him seemingly watch you back. His eyes drifted down your face, over the lumps and scrapes around your lips, to the gash at the base of your throat.

The man licked his lips, tongue softly skirted the edge of his bushy mustache. Finally he glanced at your hands, broken nails and all. 

“-Put up a fight, huh?” he asked quietly. You said nothing, your mouth was dry, tongue thick in your mouth you shrugged instead. The man put a knee down and leaned over into what looked like a deep rectangular freezer. He rummaged a minute, he unwrapped something and threw the plastic somewhere on top. 

When he returned back to you, he held out a long orange ice cream, smoky with cold and thrust it towards you to take.

“I’m Robert.” he said as you took it. “Kids around here call me Mr. Freezy.”

* * *

A slick back haired man, smooth skin impaired by a series of scars dotting his cheek clicked the heel of his loafer. 

“Eh, thanks for the tip.” said the man. With a permanent, up-to-no-good expression he tossed the cream colored folder over to you. 

“Why do they call you Sunshine?” he asked in a thick surly tone.

The representative for the local gun running mob demanded attention. But you ignored his question and picked up the folder. Another man, shorter and fatter, walked around the corner, into the small room you currently occupied. “She kills at night.” he heckled. “Brings the glory of a new day only to take it from’em.” he laughed.

The first man scoffed, shoved his hands into the pockets of his polyester slacks. “It doesn’t look like she can do-”

“Big Top isn’t going to kill himself. So do you want my assistance or not? ” you cut the first man off and then glared at the second, who gave you a curt nod.

You pulled your eyes off him and opened the folder. 

“The last one got you pretty good huh?” asked the second man with a petty flare in his tone. Obviously he was eyeing the bruise around your cheek, and the lined scab splitting your bottom lip.

You wanted to pop off a smart-ass scoff as you etched the face and name of the person on the piece of paper. But then you remembered what happened after the last job. That went off without a hitch, clean, precise...you just let your guard down after. _Shitty._

“Nope, I got this from my mother,” you laughed and tossed the closed folder back on the table. “She has a hell of a right arm.”

* * *

Your day time job was, for lack of a better word, repulsive. Plunging your hands back into the sink you could smell yourself. Sweaty, musty with the smell of hospital seeping out of your pores. 

A nurse. A fucking great nurse. But would the administration recognize it? You yanked out a ball of paper towels to dry your hands and caught your reflection in the mirror. 

“Nope,” you said to yourself with the pop of your lips.

Chunking the paper into the bin you walked over to your locker to grab your purse. End of shift, end of a work week, finally, and you swung on the strap over your jacket and walked out of the break room.

You passed the last guard on your way out of the double glass doors without much on your mind. A chilly breezy hit you while admiring the setting sun, your time to shine, and was met with a sight right out of your memories. Robert, the man with the ice cream truck, walked toward you while pulling the lip of his thin jacket up around his neck.

“Hey.” he said. “How are ya,” He scratched his fuzzy hairy chin while flicking a finger your way. 

“How the fuck do you know where I work?” Your words come out rough around the edges, accusatory and hostel but he seemed to take it in stride. Robert’s long stringy hair was pulled back away from his neck, he gazed at you through the dirty lens of his glasses and smiled.

“Just came to check up on ya.” he said as the wind died down. Robert gave you a weak wave with his left hand while the other held the jacket at his neck. “Hey, can you eat?” he asked.

The grate near you burped up stale air from the subway as you checked out the traffic of the main street. You rolled your eyes and stared back at him.

“I guess.” you said, still eyeing him carefully.

> **_Later that night.._ **

“I swear to God-- his fucking eyes were as big as donuts.” cackled Robert, he bit down on the cigarette between his teeth and scooted in closer. You didn’t press him away or pull away either. The last hour he spoke little of what he did for a living, and focused more on you. That was rare. It was different than most around here, so you let this mysterious man keep his secrets, for now. 

Robert’s thighs nestled against the back of your stool and your knee as he breathed in hard. He pulled the cigarette out as he spoke. “Big as fucking donuts,” he exhaled the pearl colored smoke, slow, passed the side of your head. 

He was the complete opposite of the man of your dreams. He was cruddy as he sat there and smiled like a shark about to devour its prey, with leftover crumbs falling off his beard. No feeling there in his eyes, dangerous, ya that was the word for the current feeling channeling through you as he leaned in further. He was rough, frayed for sure in appearance, but you didn’t mind. You ignored it, and thought parts of him were even cute. 

He suddenly snapped to and snuffed his cigarette out on what was left of your hot dog. 

“What’d ya say we get out of here,” he said.

You swallowed the last of your coke and put the cup down on the table. You shrugged, blithely grinned, while his hand behind made its way up the valley of your spine. 

Robert leaned in closer, tipping the stool forward on two rickety legs. “-Come on,” he chided, “Let’s have a little fun.”

Something about him was irresistible, bilious and hostile, but honest and it was seductive. 

He didn’t even make it to his place before Robert pulled off on a side street between a deli and a laundry. You glanced around confused as he stood up after putting it in park. He shoved the keys into his pocket and grabbed you by the hand.

“This can’t wait,” he mumbled under his breath. He knocked open the gate partitioning the back of the truck from the front and guided you inside. 

He was all about the moment, whether it was planned or not he ceased upon it. He ignored your gasp and shoved you on top of the nearest deep freezer. Panting already, he tugged at the edges of your dress uniform. It concerns you, his intimidating behavior, but it slid away with the sensation of his tongue slipping into your mouth. Tasting like smoke and pickle relish Robert tore through your hose. He scraped his smooth beard over your chin, nudged more urgently with his lips upon. No one had ever tasted you like this, fascinated by his lack of patience you responded heatedly by swirling yours with his. 

By the time you wrapped your arms around his shoulders he was in you. Thick, rough fingers pushed into you without remorse. And when you yelped he chuckled low under his breath and slithered a third finger inside of you. 

“That’s it girl,” he smiled, “Let me fill this cunt.”

You kissed him again and strained to stay focused on the pendulum swing of sensations in your belly. The push and pull, the need and resisting of satisfaction made you grimace in want. Your hips thrust forward as you clung to his shoulders. 

And just when you felt it, the climax coming to an end Robert’s low voice tunneled through your head.

“This pussy got raped in the alley didn’t?” he drawled low and swiped over your clit. Your eyes shot open. Robert wasn’t smiling, dark bottomless eyes stared back at you.

He curled his fingers, pulling a long moan from your throat. “It did, didn’t it?” he asked again and fucked you harder with his fingers.

Your eyes grew wider with his increasing depravity. Finally he smiled, wicked and demeaning, your arms dropped from his neck and palmed the top of the freezer to get away.

“Oh no, you’re not going anywhere little girl.” he whispered dangerously. Robert pulled his fingers from you, he grabbed the back of your neck pulling you in closer. His other hand fumbled his belt, his button, finally his zipper while he wrangled your hips back to his. 

Before he had a chance to really get a hold, you slapped him across the face. He matched you by back handing you into a dizzying sob. He let go of your neck, jerked your entrance back to him and his hard cock standing at attention. You clawed at his arm when it returned but he didn’t stop.

Robert was committed now. He sank into your wet slit and forced your legs over his arm as he clasped his fingers behind your neck. He mashed you into a compact form, legs waving with every pump, your head and neck at a breaking angle he took you. 

“Does he feel bigger than me?” he asked angrily. 

When you didn’t speak he smacked you again until you did. 

“ _Who?_ ” your voice gurgled out.

“I’m not fucking stupid,” Robert’s hand quickly went back to the nape of your neck and knotted his fingers tightly. 

“The bad man, baby.” He grunted. “Did he fill you up like this?” Robert moaned as he stepped closer to ram into you harder.

“Did he dump his load?” he panted.

Your hands finally moved to his shoulders and tried to push him off. It didn’t work either and only seemed to drive him to handle you harder. Robert’s fingers slipped around into a strangling hold. His eyes bore into you, urging you to play along in his sick game.

He rattled your head with a sharp shake. “Answer me,” he threatened. His voice was low and perilous, and it sat inside you. 

Fuzzy thoughts floated around your air deprived brain. He was deep, sloshing your wetness and disrupting your attempts to resist the growing feeling.

Carelessly you swiped at his arms to lessen the hold. “Don’t chicken out now,” he said through grinding teeth.

He shook you violently and forced you to take the last inches of him without recourse. “Now, fucking answer me bitch,” he demanded.

An unrestrained whimper tumbled from your lips as you struggled to speak. “You’re bigger…” you groaned.

You clenched around him, sinfully, and watched him savor your answer by rolling his eyes back and shutting his lids. He grinded into you harder rubbing against your clit. One minute you were scared out of your mind and the next an explosion of pleasure burst from your battered cunt. 

Robert opened his eyes and stared at you with his glasses sliding down to the tip of his nose. 

“I’m going to cum in you.” he hissed the threat between his teeth. “Now you’ll be my filthy whore.”

Robert bent over, your legs spread wide for him, thumping harder, deeper into you. His eyes never left yours as he hoisted himself up with a knee on the edge of the freezer. He forced your head into an unnatural angle as he pressed it between the freezer and the wall. He fucked you hard, relentlessly as he watched your expression of shock and shame. 

“Pretty girl,” he rasped on a breath. “You’re my whore now, no one else -- do you hear me?”

“I fuck this cunt from now on. It belongs to me...I claimed it.”

His slimy tongue slid out between white shiny teeth and his fuzzy beard. “I fuck this cunt,” he whispered close to your lips.

Despite your pitiful whimpering noises, Roberts hips shuddered against you and stalled out completely as he buried himself. He groaned low and turned into a raging extended growl. He convulsed with short, sharp thrusts as his mouth hung open. 

“Fuuuck…” he stuttered out between jerks. “God, fuck, _damn_.” he moaned.

Robert released your throat, his clammy hands held himself up on the surface of the freezer. You tried to pull yourself up with his softening cock still inside of you. But Robert only smiled down at you, he pushed his glasses back up with a finger and chuckled.

“You’ve got a fucking great pussy,” he complimented. 

Pushing on his chest he finally slid out of you and staggered back while tucking his wet cock back into his pants.

“That wasn’t a fucking lie,” he announced. He zipped up his pants and watched you hobble off the freezer. And when you looked back at him he shook his finger at you. 

“You’re fucking mine.” he reminded with a satisfied smile. “Don’t fucking forget it.”

* * *

Your heart raced as the head rolled off the bed with a squishy slap and thump. The room smelled like iron and freshly severed skin, you stood back, completely naked and observed your hard work, with a crooked smile. 

You teetered the ax between slick bloody hands and turned its sharp end down to the soaked carpet. Dry lips skimmed under your tongue while laboring breaths puffed out of your chest. You looked down at the top of the man’s still twitching, still bleeding body.

Vacant eyes stared up at you in a last expression of terror. 

Without much more thought of who he had been and why he had to die you leaned the ax to the side of the bed. You grabbed a thick plastic black bag from underneath the mattress. Stepping carefully, lightly, you lifted the head by the crown of wiry gray hair and junked it in. You twisted it up, knotted the end and placed it into your duffel bag. 

Not much emotion passed over your expression, indifference was one thing. But what you had evolved way surpassed the disregard for life, this was a job. And like a job, you played your part- muscle memory, a skill of knowing when and how to wrap it up was something you excelled at.

After you finished washing your body in the shower you made quick work of scrubbing the motel room down. The doorknobs, the bathroom, the ax, you grabbed your old clothes and placed them in a separate plastic bag. 

That’s when you saw flashing lights, glowing in the seal of the window from five stories down. The cold streak of fear of being caught went straight to your head. _Don’t panic_ , you told yourself. This was the shitty side of town, it could have been for any reason they were there. 

You didn’t bother to look out the window. You picked up the bag, grabbed a fresh cloth and used it to open the door. It wasn’t until you were half way down the hall toward your own room that the cops came barreling down the hallway. 

_Damn, maybe the target had been louder than you thought? And how did they get here so fucking fast?_

Inches away from the knob of your motel door, you pressed your body and the bag into the hallway wall, all the while, slowly sliding toward your escape. Slinking in, you shut it quick and leaned against it. And for the first time in a while, you prayed that your face was as forgettable as the world made you feel.

Banging rattled behind you. Shaking up the tension crawling up your back you stepped away from the door. Another round of knocks and you hurriedly placed the bag into the nearby closet. You ruffled your hair, squeezed and twisted your thin blouse to make it look like you had just got up. 

Slowly you answered the door while wiping your eyes tiredly. Cracking it to the face of a thin white man, short wisps of ash brown hair poked out around his cap. 

“Pardon the--” the man began, his eyes floated over the state of your hair and clothes. “-for the intrusion. Sorry to wake you. I need to ask you some questions.”

You didn’t open the door further and simply nodded. “I don’t know anything.” you sleepily croaked. 

The cop stood up straighter, pulling all that staunch righteous in, at the fact of being denied. Never taking his eyes off you he cleared his throat. “There’s been a murder four doors away from you. I’m going to need your information.”

“No.” you said quickly and attempted to shut the door in his face. But the cop caught the edge.

“I’m trying to be nice here.” he bared his teeth as he spoke. “Give me your name and address now. “

The vaguely threatening tone had you nodding. “Fine.” you said and he stepped back, he pulled out a small pad and wrote down your name and address quickly.

Before he could say “We’ll be in touch,” you slammed the door in his face. 

* * *

One of the most powerful men in the district crossed the busy street. He ignored the shuffle of on-coming cars, in fact, he strode right in front of crawling traffic. A homeless man jangled a cup as he set foot on the sidewalk, he bullshitted a quick _no_ and then walked into the hospital like he owned it. 

It wasn’t hard to spot the admissions station. A tight lipped smirk curved the corner of his lips as he unbuttoned the houndstooth bazer and dipped his hands into khaki slacks. He demanded the whereabouts of the witness haphazardly scribbled on a napkin. He flashed his badge when it looked like the woman behind the tall counter hesitated. When she still dared not to tell him, he used his canon, the pinpoint glare of hell-fire he reserved for court.

_Fuck he didn’t want to be here._ He continued to stare at the strawberry blond woman, she didn’t offer much resistance after he threatened her. He didn’t want to have to do the local force’s job either. But here he was, blue eyes scanning the piles of paperwork without much intent, it was an instinct, a habit of bring justice he couldn’t shake even outside the profession. 

“She’s at the end of her shift on floor eleven, mister.” the woman squeaked. 

He turned from the desk just as she called at him once more. “Do you want me to let her know you are coming Mr. Barber?” she asked.

Andy Barber turned on the slick bottom of his brick colored loafer. “And let her know I’m coming?,” he said back and continued to the elevator. “No thanks.” he said over his shoulder.

Once again, you gathered up your bag from the locker. Praise for the next few days off was celebrated by throwing tattered pantie hose into the garbage on your way out. You took a long sip off your covered lukewarm coffee and walked passed the nurses station to the elevator. 

An orderly waved you off as you stood there waiting, taking weak sips from your coffee as the doors opened. A few got off but one remained, a familiar looking man. 

Parted dark brown hair appeared impeccable against the checkered jacket. He was leaned back and propped up with his hands gripping the metal handrail along the back. A businessman, you considered but when his eyes met yours and stuck, your stomach dropped.

Ignoring the instinct to turn and use the stairs you stepped into it. His eyes stayed on you, scratching up your back as you pressed the button to the first floor.

“Andy Barber, district attorney’s office.” he announced and you froze inside, this was going to be a slow ride down.

You stood there emotionless, inscrutable even as he approached on your left. He turned toward you washing your senses in his heady cologne.

“It’s been almost a week and half, you’ve been hard to reach. I’m here to get your statement.”

“No comment,” you replied.

“Now why is that? You have something to hide?”

Quickly you turned your head toward him. 

“I have nothing to hide.”

Andy pushed his hands into his pockets and tilted his head curiously. Your eyes roamed over his bushy beard, the rise of his cheek bones, but his eyes- damn he wasn’t a dead ringer for your rescuer.

“What did you hear that night? The closest rooms were empty until yours.”

“I was asleep.” you answered shortly. 

“Sleep?”

“Then why did one of the officer’s say they saw you going into your room?”

Fuck, your mind blared.

“That’s my business and has nothing to do with whatever shit went down that night.” 

Andy switched gears, he took a couple steps toward you, directly in front of you. 

“Then let's hear it. What business did you have?” he asked.

Andy stared at you with very little regard for space or boundaries. With two blazing blue eyes he burned his will into you. He wasn’t just flexing his authority, he pressed in, slowly but deliberately forcing you to take a step back. 

“I have nothing to say!” you bit back, but your footing was lost and with it Andy smiled. _God damn, he looked like Robert when he did that_. And his mouth, buried underneath a perfectly trimmed beard matched his too. Only thing really missing were the moles, Robert had a few more down his neck than this guy. 

“I think you have plenty to say,” he said with a bright smile. The door slid open behind him, and you walked around him. “And I’m going to find out what it is,” he added, whispering into your ear as you quickly strode away.

You weren't hard to pin down. Andy parked his crown victoria and dropped his hands into his lap. Rows of brick apartment buildings lined and crowded around the occasional shop along the street. 

He checked the paper for your address and glanced back out through the windshield that read that exact number. Couldn’t have been more than a one bedroom loft by the looks of it. One story above a Polish dive, Andy watched for a few minutes before he decided to get out of the car.

But just as he opened the door a van sped by that caused him to slam the door back shut. It parked just in front of him, but it wasn’t a van. Stickers, bright and childlike were plastered all over it around the word ‘Mr. Freezy’.

“Fucking cock sucker,” he hissed under his breath. And once again he opened his door but paused when the man who drove it walked from around the front of it. 

Shoulder length hair, wavy like he remembered with the bottle cap glasses that tortured his dreams. Images of a boy torturing ants with the glasses off his face flashed through his thoughts. The strut, the man walked like he owned the street and every life on it, had Andy’s eyes glued to the figure crossing in front of oncoming traffic. 

The man flipped off the car and continued across, Andy’s body tensed as he leaned forward and gripped the steering wheel. His eyes only moved from the man when he saw you, walking in front of the diner. He swallowed hard and hoped that this long haired freak wasn’t coming to see you. 

His stomach turned, felt like his epiglottis hung nearly down his throat as you smiled at him. 

Andy groaned and spied the smirk growing around the man's lips. “Fuckin’ Robert.” he grumbled.

* * *

The case was pretty much closed, and labeled cold and quickly dismissed by the district attorney for lack of evidence. It was bullshit, swept under the rotten rug that the mayor stood on while snorting his line of coke. Andy knew the odds of finding the killer, the real piece of shit that did it, was small at best. 

But that wasn’t really on his mind at the moment as he stood on the other side of your street. He casually thumbed at the folder tucked under his arm and remembered it had been years since he had looked at its contents. In the dark and a bit buzzed, near a couple of barren bushes, Andy gazed up at the light of your unshuttered window. He had to know you were alone this time. He looked both ways over the street and decided that maybe your visitor was a no-show tonight. 

At least he hoped that was the case, but he didn’t care much. He had been watching your home for long enough to know you usually came home right after work. Except on Wednesdays when you shopped at the store down the street. And the man, Robert, arrived when he wanted. No rhyme or reason to his visits so Andy took the chance. He crossed the street, and from his observations he also knew that your buzz box was broken, as was the lock to the entrance door.

He pulled it open and was promptly hit in the face with the fragrance of onions and cabbage then he stepped lightly up the stairs towards your door. The way up to your door channeled perfectly the sounds of the kitchen next door. Maybe his footsteps were masked, he wasn’t a natural thrill seeker, he enjoyed the chase sure. In court it offered a thrill of using knowledge to bury his opposition in humiliation. But this was different. It tickled something inside of him and wiggled a need he wasn’t sure what to do with. 

Andy banged on the door, he pursed his lips tight and reminded himself to relax. He didn’t mix words when you opened the door, eyes bright, beautiful with a warm smile across your thick smooth lips. Wearing nothing but a yellow tube top and a skirt, Andy forced his eyes to focus on your face.

“Why are you with Robert Pronge?” he asked harshly. 

Your eyes and face hardened on contact and you attempted to shut the door. Andy stepped over the threshold, he knew that this was crossing the line, he knew that it was satisfying too. He grabbed the lip of the door and slapped at your hand when you tried to close it on him. 

“What the fuck are you doing! Get the fuck out of here!”

Your harsh shout landed on deaf ears, Andy slammed the door behind him and grabbed one of your arms.

“I told you what I did that night! Get out of my fucking house!” You yelled. 

Andy jerked you further into the apartment. “Listen to me,” he insisted and shook you slightly.

“That’s a dangerous man, he’s done terrible shit. You want to get caught up in that? He’s a fucking murder!” 

You stopped struggling. “Why do you care?” you asked.

“He’s not right...in the head. I just haven’t caught him in the act yet. Listen, I’ve known him my entire life.”

Andy released you slowly and took a deep breath. “That’s my brother, my twin.” He held up the folder and then thrust it into your hands.

“Look at it,” he said nodding to your small table. You eyed him for another minute, glanced at your door and stared at him again. “Please.” he added quietly with his breath smelling like hard liquor.

“I’ll give you ten minutes and I’m going to start screaming.” you said.

Andy nodded and followed you to the other side of the table. He didn’t sit like you did, he hovered as you opened the folder. 

It looked like the contents of a case file. A sheet of paper with a timeline dating from the sixties covered an image, a photo. You flipped over the paper to reveal the dismembered parts of a body crammed into a hole. 

Revolted, you stared up at Andy in disgust. “What the fuck is this? Barber?”

“His victims,” answered Andy. Irritated with having to stop and explain every detail he stepped closer, and began to flip over the pages as he spoke.

“This one was a kid we knew, Bobby hated him- he was fourteen.” He grabbed a few between his fingers and flipped them over. He pointed at the photo of a woman's face, pretty with black curly hair and a beautiful smile. “Her? She was the waitress Bobbie admired for all the wrong reasons. She pushed him off and this was the result.”

“Okay alright.” you scoffed and flipped to the end. 

Andy hesitated, a pitiful sharp sigh puffed around his words. “That was my wife and son. They were killed eight years ago…”

“You think he did this?”

“The investigation concluded it was due to faulty break lines. But I know better…”

You suppressed a smirk at the pain in his eyes, and hoped he didn’t see it. You reprimand your antics by staring at the photo. It was grounding to the proclivity you had to cross the wires of sympathy and joy. Death, it seems more real, more permanent than life itself. But your calculating side, couldn’t help in thinking about the pesky consequences of leaving a trail as Robert had done. _Sloppy_.

“Wait,” you asked quietly and shook your head-baggage away. “Why is your last name Barber?” you inquired genuinely, although, you always did your work.

Andy shoved his hands deep in his pockets and gazed at you thoughtfully. “He’s using our mother’s maiden name, clever..”

He nudged your bare shoulder causing you to react with a flinch. Andy knelt down at your side and put his hand on the back of your chair. The weight of his stare, not on your face, but your body burned your skin to the point you refused to meet his gaze.

You wondered how this family tempered its crazy. He was an attorney, an authority and here, in your kitchen, he was watching you like a starving man. 

“If you have any information,” The skin of your back prickled with heat. Turn him in? You thought and still refused to react to Andy’s offer.

“I can use it to put this monster away…” he asked, more needy than you liked. So you turned to him and attempted to shove him off his feet.

It didn’t work. Instead of falling backwards Andy grabbed you by the wrist and with him you fell forward. Your ears rang, heart raced up into your throat when you continued to wrestle away. 

And when you managed to get to a standing position, half with Andy grabbing your waist and your arms reaching for the nearby couch. He wouldn’t let go.

Andy _couldn’t_ let go. It was something about you. Whether it was the dark amusement in your eyes at the news of his family’s demise, or the hilarity of you actually loving Robert enough to protect him. It split his nerves, your gall pissed him off to the point he no longer struggled with restraint.

And when he got you back to the floor your screams tore through him and the space around him. He forced you belly first on the cold linoleum, your neck pinched in the crease of his arm and you no longer screamed. 

Something inside you suddenly froze, nails digging into the fabric of his sleeve you didn’t move. Sweat dripped down to the end of his nose as he fought to take a complete breath. His hips laid on the tops of your ass while his growing chub became wedged in the tight mounds underneath.

Andy went right for it, without really thinking. _Fuck that_. He fumbled with his belt, while slowly grinding his now raging hard on into you. He didn’t say a word when he pushed your legs apart with his bony knees or as he yanked your panties to the side. 

Still digging on his sleeve your mind tunneled back to Robert. With his hot nicotine breath simmering on your skin, his thick cock shoved up inside you without remorse. This man, he really was his brother. 

And when Andy pushed the head in, passed your tight entrance, they felt related too. 

Andy’s free hand grabbed at your right wrist and twisted it down onto the floor underneath his. He pressed his fingers in between yours while he panted rhythmically in your ear. 

Such a quiet fuck. Not like Robert, at all. When he took you, he made sure you were aware - terrified yes, but completely coherent when fucked you hard. 

Andy’s hips slowly bucked and bobbed over your ass as he squeezed your hard. “I’m sorry,” he apologized with a soft grunt.

He kept saying it with every thrust like he was apologizing to the air more than you. 

Sweet, you felt so slick and smooth around the girth of his dick. Andy blurred the lines, convinced himself that this was right and you wanting Robert was wrong. Never mind about your struggle, and never mind you were a raging tease by the way you were dressed. You had made eyes at him. You _wanted_ this. 

But he still managed to whisper another soft ‘sorry’ when his thrusts grew more ragged. And he felt justified when you didn’t struggle anymore, that your ‘nos’ turned to moans. 

Fuck, you were a complete _slut_ , thought Andy and grabbed for your right shoulder. Your head was still captured in the crook of his left arm, slowly he leaned you that direction, pressed his fingers into your shoulder and fucked you harder. 

Flashes of your face, your smile burst into his want. And then he burst, with a long painful moan Andy came inside you in a haze of seeing his brother’s face slowly melt away in his mind.

Still with the taste of booze in his mouth Andy let you go. On his knees, he put himself away and stood up. 

“Fuck…” he said regretfully. 

When you looked up at him from the floor he was running his hands through his hair while pacing. 

You managed to pull your skirt back over your ass and sat, still watching him whisper to himself. Andy issued another round of apologies, after that he didn’t look at you again. Quickly, he walked over to the table, scooped up the folder with the photos of blood shed.

“I--I should have never come here…” he muttered, and leaving you there he walked out of the apartment.

A thick heavy boot stepped off the sidewalk and right into a puddle of gray runoff. It was joined by the other, Robert craned his neck up to your window. 

It was the shadows that caught his eyes, plural. He had told you not to have company- ever. 

So he waited around the corner, a perfect angle to watch. 

A short haired man with a thick beard mirroring his own brought him out of the shadows. Robert took another step, this time out of the puddle as he watched the man stand, from what he assumed was the floor.

He hadn’t seen his brother's face in eight years until this moment. 

“What the shit is he doing here,” hissed Robert into the dark.

His mind raced as his eyes rolled back to the blankness of his lids he remembered Andy’s curiosity. How he always stayed in his business and somehow always barged into his life. Robert couldn’t take his eye off the ball for a minute, he thought and looked back up at the window.

This time his attention jerked down to the door of your building being shoved open. Even from his distance, he could see Andy’s forehead covered, and glistening with sweat. He continued to watch his brother until he disappeared into a crowd of drunk men at the end of the street.

Robert brought his gaze back up to the window. You were there, staring at the table and hunched over it. No expression crossed your face and still you pulled him in. The curve of your face - that turned smooth, always, under his touch became his focus. 

He wondered what you told Andy.

And he was going to find out.

* * *

The smoke hung heavy under the low ceiling, strobing lights of blue, green and yellow flashed through them like a murky spot light. Signalling sex, raw consumption of liquor and passion you leaned back on the bar and observed. The beat bounced through the air and vibrated through your skin as you sucked hard on the straw. With the alcohol pulsing through your veins, the sticky sweet drink coated your tongue as you wobbled gently to the music. Bodies rocked with the music, men swayed, women gyrated to the beat while you sat alone on your stool.

It was the happy ending of yet another long work week. Blood soaked clothes, gloves, poking the unruly receivers and that was just your side hustle. And Robert, you had decided to let that lay for a bit. Ya, he was a murderer, but what were you? Your silence with him and his equally fucked up brother had given you the space to think. 

But all of the peace you had gathered was striped away in an instant. All of it fell to the side as your eyes landed on the man casually dancing as he walked, Robert. A fist bump here, and elbow jutting out in rhythm with a flirtatious smile to whoever would look. 

You placed the drink back on the bar. Time to go.

It had been a week since you last saw him. Fuck. Not like he hadn’t tried to see you. At your job, at the local shop, where you knew damn well he lived nowhere near, he showed up and showed out. 

Whatever he was, he was a risk to your way of life. He had to go, that is, unless you could mold him to your life. But here he was, his glasses flashed and reflected the blast of color from the lights. His head was in your direction and you absolutely knew he was staring. 

Pissed off by your space being cramped you hopped the stool. Ignoring his approach you walked toward the exit and utilized the change of songs, crowds of people left the dance floor. And you were lost in it, hopefully, he wouldn’t pursue. 

You couldn’t have been more wrong. 

“Hey!” called Robert, gaining closeness.

You were already across the street, walking like you were out pacing a fire, you dug in your purse for your keys. 

“Hey bitch!” 

Robert’s voice echoed around you. And before you made it to your car you finally became really aware of your surroundings. His truck, under the street light, the pale blue words stood out in the dark Mr. Freezy. 

A dirty cloth coated your mouth. Smelling like oil but sweet too you breathed in deep in an attempt to yell. 

“Shush,” whispered Robert. His body clung to you from behind as he dragged you toward his truck. “I fuckin told you. Didn’t -”

In a last ditch effort, you made a fist, struck down and aimed for his balls.

“Cut that shit out!” he hissed.

No fresh air, the sweetness filled your nose and mouth. 

“That’s it, take it in cunt.” his voice smeared in your mind. Robert let go of your waist, your legs buckled so he pushed his body on top yours against the closed door of his ice cream truck. Another deep breath, and your eyes stuck to the image of him grabbing at the handle. It was the last thing you remembered seeing of the outside world.

The first thing you saw when your eyes blinked open was a bundle of rope. It sat coiled in the corner of a dark room. Another blink, a few feet from it, a stained bat, what looked like a crow bar, and other long objects. But closer to your head, with another wipe to your eyes for clarity, a flat piece of wood. _Was that a paddle?_

“Finally, it’s been hours. I was beginning to worry.”

Roberts' voice, confident but aloof, joined the tat-tat of dripping water. You laid, face first on the dingy cement floor. A bulb from above was the only light shining in Robert’s work space. 

It had to be a place for his blood thirst. You turned over on your side to get a better look. Meat hooks, dangerously clean hung from the roof, the room had a basin in the far corner and over the only entry thick clear plastic swayed. 

It was the only place he never shared with you. And you had made it.

“What are you smiling at?” he asked.

You hadn’t realized you were smirking and quickly stopped. 

“You think this is a fucking joke?” he jeered. Robert came full view after he stepped over your body and knelt down near your chest on one knee. He was naked except for his glasses and a pair of black, elbow length gloves. 

A puff of white smoke cascaded from his lips and then ashed the cigarettes near your head. “I see you met my holier than thou brother.” 

Robert scoffed to himself as he stared at you. 

“I caught up with that sack of shit. Scared the shit out of his ass,” Robert laughed this time with glee in his eyes.

“He told me he got to dip into that perfect pussy of yours.”

You continued to watch him, never leaving your eyes from his face as he spoke.

“Also told me it wasn’t exactly consensual too.” Robert bit his lip as if to say ‘sorry about that’.

With a gloved hand he caressed your face. “I don’t like to share normally. If he would have been another man I would have killed him. Andy’s my brother. Whatever he does, I’ll still love him. Whatever threatens us, I’ll kill.”

Robert’s hand skimmed down your neck and he scooted closer. His balls and dick shook with the sudden movement they were nearly to your face. But you didn’t move, if there was a heart in you it might have raced. But you lived for this, craved the chaos that came with dealing with Robert.

“I want one last dip too. You know, for old times sake.”

He pulled hard on the last of his cigarette, junked it and grabbed you by the head. Smoke wafted over your mouth as he kissed you. His tongue poked and slid into your mouth tasting of nicotine. 

“I’m not going to tell anybody.” you managed to mumble through the kiss. Robert pulled back, he appeared sad, if that were possible.

He seemingly relaxed at your words as he let you go. But the calm didn’t last, Robert smacked you hard across the face and pushed his body on top of yours. It jarred you, took you by surprise to the point that when Robert finally was inside of you, it was his grunts that brought you back. 

He shoved his gloved hand over your mouth shutting out your nonexistent cries. It was a reflex. Robert couldn’t get off unless he thought you really didn’t want it. Something about needing the fight, craving it to the point of drowning out all your protests. 

And when he bothered to look into your eyes he found zero fear. Robert grabbed one of your legs, twisted it and yanked it high hoping his deep digging would bring out a cry from you.

Nothing. 

And that was when he tried a new tactic. He grabbed your throat with two hands and squeezed. That was it. Your eyes popped open wide as your mouth gaped. 

_Fear_. And it made him rock hard. 

Robert had sworn off breeding. But now, watching you take him whole, he couldn’t help but think about how much better it would be to see you big. What does a brother compare to the offspring of you, his captive? He pumped harder as his head tipped back to relish in the sensations of your wet pussy.

“Ugh,” Robert growled. “Just thinking about you big with my kid,”

Your eyes rolled to the side and you struggled to breath. His voice warped with the rush of blood to your ears. 

“Maybe I shouldn’t kill you…”

Weakly, your hand left the black plastic around his wrist. You chanced another glance at him, blurry, but he was fiercely pistoning, long hair wild, his glasses nearly off his face as he squeezed his eyes shut.

“I’m goin’ take that cunt every single day.” 

Your fingers wrapped around the handle of the padded. Robert came, slamming his hips into you with every long hiss. And with every once of power you could summon, you took the paddle and swung it at his head.

The moment it connected with the side of Robert’s face, he pulled out of you and fell to the cement floor. On your feet, you hit him again for good measure and planted your feet. 

Both hands gripped the handle like a pro and stared down at him. “Mr. Freezy?” you shouted with knowing. 

“Ya I know all about it.” you pointed out. “I _know_ you.”

Robert gazed up at you with wide eyes, without his glasses on you could get a great look at the emotion rolling over his face. His lips moved like he was going to speak but stopped and blanched.

“You think you’re the only one?” You laughed at him.

Robert grabbed his glasses and put them back on while never letting his eyes leave you. 

“What do you think you know?” he asked quickly with his blood running hot. 

“Who do you think got rid of Big Top? The motel?” you quipped.

You let Robert stand up. He rolled his shoulders and pushed his stringy hair out of his sweaty face. 

“Only one woman ‘round here doing dirty work that I’ve heard of.” he scoffed. “You aren’t Sunshine.”

Robert pointed to the floor accusingly. “You think she would let me have my way with her?”

“From where I’m standing you’re the one with a knot on his head. Seems to me I’m the one who had my way with you.”

The ignorant smile growing on Robert's face fell hard. He remembered the lack of fear in your eyes, the way your cunt pooled with wet around his cock. _Damn_.

You allowed Robert to move to the nearby counter. He yanked his clothes off and quickly got dressed as he continued to watch you handle the paddle.

“So what about that first day we met?” he asked, pulling on his shoes. 

“That was a mistake. Collateral damage with being a woman on the shitty side of town.” You tossed the paddle, the clatter drew Robert’s eyes to the floor. 

“I was attacked after a job.” you confessed. 

Robert looked at you again. “Prove it.” And walked past you toward the plastic curtain. 

You followed suspiciously, but confidently through the curtain. Within was a smaller area, with more hooks hanging from the metal rafters. And on those hooks hung two men. Like observing a stack of books, or a batch of flowers, your eyes roamed over their bodies without much grim fascination.

“Help me get rid of these things,” he said with his back turned toward you. Robert clanged a few long knives as he gathered them up.

He turned around and tossed a pair of long black gloves into your chest. You caught them easily and went about putting them as he watched. Robert stepped forward and handed you the end of one of the blades.

You glanced at the thick blade, it was blotchy with rusted patches and not nearly as shiny as you liked them. “Got anything sharper?” you chuckled.

“Don’t be an asshole,” he replied as you took it. 

Robert watched you turn on your heel toward the nearest dead naked body. He knew you were still dripping with his cum as you surveyed the mobster. _Fuck that was hot_ , he thought. Robert began to imagine a life with you, killing for you too. 

You grabbed one of the legs, hitched it under your arm and began to cut into the lifeless flesh over the hip joint.

Robert Pronge had truly fallen in love.


End file.
